Читать книгу The Man on the Balcony - Maj Sjowall, Per Wahloeoe - Страница 13

When Kollberg and Rönn reached the scene of the crime in Vanadis Park the area behind the water tower was properly roped off. The photographer had finished his work and the doctor was busy with his first routine examination of the body.

The ground was still damp and the only footprints near the body were fresh and had almost certainly been made by the men who had found the body. The girl's sandals were lying farther down the slope near the red fence.

When the doctor had finished Kollberg went up to him and said, ‘Well?’

‘Strangled,’ the doctor said. ‘Rape of some sort. Maybe.’

He shrugged.

‘When?’

‘Last evening some time. Find out when she last ate and what…’

‘I know. Do you think it happened here?’

‘I see no signs that it didn't.’

‘No,’ Kollberg said. ‘Why the hell did it have to rain like that.’

‘Huh,’ the doctor said, walking off towards his car.

Kollberg stayed for another half hour, then took a car from the ninth district to the station at Surbrunnsgatan.

The superintendent was at his desk reading a report when Kollberg entered. He greeted him and put the report aside. Pointed to a chair. Kollberg sat down and said:

‘Nasty business.’

‘Yes,’ the superintendent said. ‘Have you found anything?’

‘Not as far as I know. I think the rain has ruined everything.’

‘When do you think it happened? We had an assault case up there last evening. I was just looking at the report.’

‘I don't know,’ Kollberg said. ‘We'll see when we can move her.’

‘Do you think it can be the same guy? That she saw him do it, or something?’

‘If she has been raped it's hardly the same one. A mugger who is also a sex murderer … it's a bit much,’ Kollberg said vaguely.

‘Raped? Did the doctor say so?’

‘He thought it possible.’

Kollberg sighed and rubbed his chin.

‘The boys who drove me here said you know who she is.’

‘Yes,’ the superintendent said. ‘It seems like it. Granlund was in just now and identified her from a photo her mother brought in here last night.’

The superintendent opened a file, took out a snapshot and gave it to Kollberg. The girl who now lay dead in Vanadis Park was leaning against a tree and laughing up at the sun. Kollberg nodded and handed the photo back.

‘Do the parents know that…’

‘No,’ the superintendent said.

He tore a sheet off the note pad in front of him and gave it to Kollberg.

‘Mrs Karin Carlsson, Sveavägen 83,’ Kollberg read aloud.

‘The girl's name was Eva,’ the superintendent said. ‘Someone had better … you had better go there. Now. Before she finds out in a more unpleasant way.’

‘It's quite unpleasant enough as it is,’ Kollberg sighed.

The superintendent regarded him gravely but said nothing.

‘Anyway, I thought this was your district,’ Kollberg said. But he stood up and continued:

‘Okay, okay, I'll go. Someone has to do it.’

In the doorway he turned and said:

‘No wonder we're short of men in the force. You have to be crazy to become a cop.’

As he had left his car by Stefan's Church he decided to walk to Sveavägen. Besides, he wanted to take his time before meeting the girl's parents.

The sun was shining and all traces of the night's rain had already dried up. Kollberg felt slightly sick at the thought of the task ahead of him. It was disagreeable, to say the least. He had been forced into similar tasks before, but now, in the case of a child, the ordeal was worse than ever. If only Martin had been here, he thought; he's much better at this sort of thing than I am. Then he remembered how depressed Martin Beck had always seemed in situations like this, and followed up the train of thought: hah, it's just as hard for everyone, whoever has to do it.

The block of flats where the dead girl had lived was obliquely opposite Vanadis Park, between Surbrunnsgatan and Frejgatan. The lift was out of order and he had to walk up the five flights. He stood still for a moment and got his breath before ringing the doorbell.

The woman opened the door almost at once. She was dressed in a brown cotton housecoat and sandals. Her fair hair was tousled, as if she had been pushing her fingers through it over and over again. When she saw Kollberg her face fell with disappointment, then her expression hovered between hope and fear.

Kollberg showed his identity card and she gave him a desperate, inquiring look.

‘May I come in?’

The woman opened the door wide and stepped back.

‘Haven't you found her?’ she said.

Kollberg walked in without answering. The flat seemed to consist of two rooms. The outer one contained a bed, bookshelves, desk, TV set, chest of drawers and two armchairs, one on each side of a low teak table. The bed was made, presumably no one had slept in it that night. On the blue bedspread was a suitcase, open, and beside it lay piles of neatly folded clothes. A couple of newly ironed cotton dresses hung over the lid of the suitcase. The door of the inner room was open; Kollberg caught sight of a blue-painted bookshelf with books and toys. On top sat a white teddy bear.

‘Do you mind if we sit down?’ Kollberg asked, and sat in one of the armchairs.

The woman remained standing and said:

‘What has happened? Have you found her?’

Kollberg saw the dread and the panic in her eyes and tried to keep quite calm.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Please sit down, Mrs Carlsson. Where is your husband?’

She sat in the armchair opposite Kollberg.

‘I have no husband. We're divorced. Where's Eva? What has happened?’

‘Mrs Carlsson, I'm terribly sorry to tell you this. Your daughter is dead.’

The woman stared at him.

‘No,’ she said. ‘No.’

Kollberg got up and went over to her.

‘Have you no one who can be with you? Your parents?’

The woman shook her head.

‘It's not true,’ she said.

Kollberg put his hand on her shoulder.

‘I'm terribly sorry, Mrs Carlsson,’ he said lamely.

‘But how? We were going to the country…’

‘We're not sure yet,’ Kollberg replied. ‘We think that she … that she's been the victim of…’

‘Killed? Murdered?’

Kollberg nodded.

The woman shut her eyes and sat stiff and still. Then she opened her eyes and shook her head.

‘Not Eva,’ she said. ‘It's not Eva. You haven't … you've made a mistake.’

‘No,’ Kollberg said. ‘I can't tell you how sorry I am, Mrs Carlsson. Isn't there anyone I can call? Someone I can ask to come here? Your parents or someone?’

‘No, no, not them. I don't want anyone here.’

‘Your ex-husband?’

‘He's living in Malmö, I think.’

Her face was ashen and her eyes were hollow. Kollberg saw that she had not yet grasped what had happened, that she had put up a mental barrier which would not allow the truth past it. He had seen the same reaction before and knew that when she could no longer resist, she would collapse.

‘Who is your doctor, Mrs Carlsson?’ Kollberg asked.

‘Doctor Ström. We were there on Wednesday. Eva had had a tummy ache for several days and as we were going to the country I thought I'd better…’

She broke off and looked at the doorway into the other room.

‘Eva's never sick as a rule. And she soon got over this tummy ache. The doctor thought it was a touch of gastric flu.’

She sat silent for a moment. Then she said, so softly that Kollberg could hardly catch the words:

‘She's all right again now.’

Kollberg looked at her, feeling desperate and idiotic. He did not know what to say or do. She was still sitting with her face turned towards the open door into her daughter's room. He was trying frantically to think of something to say when she suddenly got up and called her daughter's name in a loud, shrill voice. Then she ran into the other room. Kollberg followed her.

The room was bright and nicely furnished. In one corner stood a red-painted box full of toys and at the foot of the narrow bed was an old-fashioned doll's house. A pile of schoolbooks lay on the desk.

The woman was sitting on the edge of the bed, her elbows propped on her knees and face buried in her hands. She rocked to and fro and Kollberg could not hear whether she was crying or not.

He looked at her for a moment, then went out into the hall where he had seen the telephone. An address book lay beside it and in it, sure enough, he found Doctor Ström's number.

The doctor listened while Kollberg explained the situation and promised to come within five minutes.

Kollberg went back to the woman, who was sitting as he had left her. She was making no sound. He sat down beside her and waited. At first he wondered whether he dared touch her, but after a while he put his arm cautiously around her shoulders. She seemed unaware of his presence.

They sat like this until the silence was broken by the doctor's ring at the door.